I am writing this letter to bring attention to a fact that may cause
you much shock and disgust. I am writing to inform you of the lack of
dignity in your establishments. My son and I made the mistake of
wandering into one of your McDonalds locations last night, and based
on the content of your televised commercials, we expected to be
treated with dignity. This was far from what occurred. I politely
requested to the robust woman working the register that my son insists
on having his burger broiled slowly and WITH CARE. Instead of
informing the cooking crew to slowly broil the burger with care, she
slowly but carefully insulted my son’s honor. She lazily looked up
at me with her heartless eyes and told me, “All our burgers are
cooked in the same manner.” She didn’t try to compromise to my needs.
She didn’t apologize to me OR my son for this inconvenience. She
didn’t even look apologetic. My son appropriately and immediately
began wailing. She looked over at my precious little boy and I could
see the corner of her mouth turn into a smirk. She was laughing at his
pain.

I do not know how my son nor I can ever recover from such a traumatic
incident, and I hope you will take the necessary steps to correct this
array of errors. I am a very important person and I have a lot of
friends. If you do not make necessary steps, I can assure you, you
will be losing a lot of customers once they hear of the dirt I have
uncovered.

I am writing to complain about the lack of attractiveness in your establishment. Not only was the hostess rotund but so were the gaggle of waitresses. I brought my son there for a specific reason, and that reason was to collect a wife. My son possesses a suitable weight and pride in appearance and I am honored to say that not one female thing (because that’s what they looked like, in my humble opinion) met his expectations. Nor did they meet mine.

My son left your restaurant with a full stomach and an empty heart. He was devastated, so much so that he understandably assaulted my wife upon returning to our once peaceful home. It took three armed officers to take my son down, and this has caused emotional distress to me, Eggward Johnson VII. I will have you know that you WILL be held accountable for the damage you did to my precious son.

Sincerely,

The Honorable Eggward Johnson VII

A letter to the management of Subway

Greetings,

I’m writing to inform you of the filth that you have mistaken as people to employ at your establishment. I walked into your monstrosity of a chain with my heart overflowing with dreams of attractive sandwich artists. I had envisioned that there would be a beautiful girl working behind the counter, and that she would see how beautiful I am inside and have sex with me in the alley behind Subway. But those dreams were crushed, much like I wish your staff to be, crushed like the meat inside the mediocre sandwich I forced myself to eat.

The sandwich artist was not beautiful. She was ugly and her mannerisms were unbecoming. I like my women to be in the best physical condition and she was far from that. The rolls of her stomach reminded me of my own and I was offended by that. She tried to be pleasant and asked how I was doing, and I rightly dismissed her advances and told her that her physical form repulsed me. She had the audacity to begin crying at this point, which understandably escalated my rage. This type of manipulation is inappropriate for the work place. Inappropriate for the work place, and inappropriate for the mind of me, Eggward Pogglestein.

Sincerely,

The mind of Eggward Pogglestein

What’s Your Anti-Drug?

What keeps me away from drugs is my interest in Chevy trucks. I don’t want to ever own a Chevy truck, they are too much trouble. But, my interest keeps me drug-free.

Billy

My anti-drug is my drawings. I like drawing pictures of people i see around town, and draw them assaulting Ellen DeGeneres. I have a shoe box of them under my bed and I look through that box every time my son nags me to try Crystal Meth.

Barbara

My anti-drug is my unemployment. Perhaps if I had a job, I would have enough money to purchase drugs. However, I have lost the will to look for a job. Frankly, it’s just too much trouble, and I guess that means drugs are too much trouble too. C’est la Vie.